


Comments or Suggestions

by orphan_account



Category: Final Fantasy IX
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-19
Updated: 2010-03-19
Packaged: 2017-10-08 03:19:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zidane's sordid history comes to light through an innkeeper's story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comments or Suggestions

_Comments/Suggestions:  
I've already been here a few times, and I like this inn. The location is good because it's right in front of the air cab station and it's nice having a moogle around. I just wish it were cheaper.  
\--Zidane   
_

* * *

_  
_

"You again!" the innkeeper shouted. His eyes had scanned over their large party once disinterestedly, then snapped back to Zidane and narrowed in suspiciously on the sandy haired thief with the perpetually mischievous grin.

"Do I know you?" Zidane asked, spreading his hands. The innkeeper's face turned gradually darker in hue.

"Is something wrong, sir?" Dagger asked innocently, her guileless eyes widening as they shifted between Zidane and the innkeeper.

"Begging your pardon, ma'am," the innkeeper said to her, "but I hope you know what sort of company you're keeping." He glared meaningfully at Zidane then eyed the rest of the party dubiously, a Burmecian with a spear, a tall blue thug, a young child, a frightful creature with an unnaturally long tongue, a knight in dented rusty armour and a black mage.

"Look at the lot of you, you're a right queer bunch if you don't mind me saying so and _him_," he pointed at Zidane with a trembling finger, "a shyster, a huckster, a fraud."

"I told you he was a scoundrel," Steiner proclaimed, shaking his fist at Zidane.

"Rusty," Zidane said with feeling. "Do you want to sleep on the streets tonight?"

Dagger wiped her forehead with a small lacy handkerchief she plucked out of the bodice of her peasant's blouse. The innkeeper watched this manoeuvre with fascination. Zidane tore his eyes away from Dagger's bosom to slap four fifty gil coins on the counter.

"We're paying customers, mister," he said, grinning. "You don't wanna turn away good honest custom, now do you? It wouldn't be good for business."

The innkeeper swept the coins into the palm of his hand. He lifted one up and bit it suspiciously.

"Money is good to eat? Why no one tell me?" Quina asked, waggling its tongue and reaching for Zidane's purse.

"No, no," Zidane said earnestly, turning away from Quina's questing hands and keeping a firm grip on the purse strings. "He's just checking to see that the money's authentic."

Quina wandered away towards a potted plant and started eating it. Zidane sighed and patted his purse.

"So, does it check out or what?" he asked the innkeeper, leaning on the counter.  
The bell on the desk rang loudly, causing Zidane's arm to slide off the counter. He slid with it and landed in a heap on the floor. From this excellent vantage point he looked up to see Eiko perched sheepishly on Vivi's shoulders.

"I got bored," she said, "and Mog loves to hear pretty bells." Amarant plucked her off of Vivi by the wings and held her away from him like some kind of foul bug he'd found under a rock. He headed up the stairs of the rustic looking inn, with Eiko shrieking and wriggling ineffectually in his grip.

"Nap time," he said as his head disappeared into the stairwell.

"Well?" Dagger asked, turning away from the spectacle and crossing her arms on her chest. Both Zidane and the innkeeper were momentarily made speechless by the things this did to her cleavage.

"I don't know," the innkeeper admitted. I don't know what good gil's supposed to taste like. I just saw some guy do it in a play once."

"How do you dare question the Princess' honour?" Steiner shouted crossly. "True, some of her companions may be lacking in moral rectitude, but she would never allow them to pass counterfeit money to an honest businessman."

"Princess?" the innkeeper asked incredulously, using this as another excuse to examine her from head to toe.

Disgustedly, Dagger turned on her heel and followed Amarant upstairs. Vivi, Quina and Freya ascended in her wake, discussing the interesting tribal weavings on the wall. Quina chewed on one of them thoughtfully on the way, but spat it out quickly and continued waddling upstairs.

"He can be dangerous when he's angry," Zidane jerked his chin at Steiner who was delivering a disquisition on the state of morality in modern society. The innkeeper's eyes had started to cross from listening to him.

"If you get him out of the lobby I'll let you stay," he whispered. Zidane grabbed Steiner's arm and began dragging him to the stairs, protesting, "wait, I am not finished berating that man for questioning the Princess' integrity."

"Just you make sure you don't cause any trouble," the innkeeper shouted, wiping his nose on his sleeve and leaning forward over the counter menacingly. "I got friends in high places, you know. I won't stand for any funny business. My wife's friend's uncle's cousin is Minister Artania," he concluded to Zidane's heels as they ascended the stairs.

* * *

"So what did you do to the innkeeper?" Amarant asked as Steiner, Vivi and Zidane settled into one of the rooms upstairs.

"What? Oh I don't know," Zidane scratched his head. "I remember coming here a few times with Tantalus, but I don't know what's got his underwear in a bunch. Why don't you go ask him if you're so interested?"

* * *

Amarant ran into Freya in the hallway.

"Watch where you're going, you overgrown mop," she said cheerfully.

"Listen rodent, I'm just having a word with the innkeeper, so kindly step aside."

"Going to find out what Zidane did to him?" she asked, adjusting her travel-stained hat.

"Yeah, you?"

"Just looking for some of the slop that passes as food in this city. I was going to get some money from Zidane. He's been hoarding it again. But it can wait for this," Freya's nose twitched.

"Well then, after you," Amarant said graciously, bowing ironically. They walked downstairs together, Freya with grace and dignity, Amarant, his heavy boots pounding the floor so hard that dust sifted out of the ceiling beams.

* * *

"Hey innkeeper, fancy a bit of a break?" Freya asked, leaning on the counter casually.

"What is this, some kind of distraction so your friend can clean me out?" the innkeeper squinted at Amarant and Freya.

"Wow, Zidane really did a number on you," Freya remarked.

"Course not," Amarant answered him. "You got some way of feeding your clientele?"

"Sure, old Bobo can fix you up with some grub. I'll send my son to get it."

"Have him get something for you too," Amarant offered, tipping a generous handful of coins into the innkeeper's hands.

"How did you . . . ?" Freya gaped at him.

"Let's say I don't trust Zidane either," Amarant said. The innkeeper raised an eyebrow.

"How about we go somewhere to talk?" Amarant suggested.

* * *

The innkeeper's son was set to watch the desk while Freya, Amarant and the innkeeper retired to the newly rebuilt Doom Pub II. The owner didn't seem to have the imagination to see how the name might have been a little ill-fated the first time. Once the innkeeper, who urged them to call him Thad, had a few root beers in him and they'd all bravely sampled Berserk Bourguignon and Slow Pudding, a hazy tale of deceit emerged, with Zidane and a few other members of Tantalus in the thick of it.

* * *

_Zidane, Blank and Cinna rushed into the hotel late one evening. Cinna lugged two large suitcases on his back and staggered under the weight. Marcus stayed in the doorway, which he left open the slimmest sliver, peering through the crack._

_"I think the coast's clear for now," Marcus whispered, strolling nonchalantly to stand with the others at the desk._

_"Can I help you gentlemen?" Thad asked, giving them the benefit of the doubt, since none of them looked in the least like gentlemen. Thaddeus had been having some trouble with running the inn he had just inherited from his father. He had also inherited from his father some rather extensive debts run up from gambling trips to Treno Card Tournaments. These debts made him willing to turn a blind eye to the state of his customers' clothing and their general shiftiness._

_"Yeah, how much to spend the night?" Blank asked, grinning and pouring coins from hand to hand._

_"That'll be 100 gil," Thad said._

_"100 gil? That's highway robbery and we ought to know," Zidane declared._

_"Can it," Marcus thumped him on the shoulder. "We can't be found by **certain people** this evening, not after that job. We've gotta lay low."_

_"Well, I've only got thirty," Blank said._

_"And this lot can't be sold in Lindblum," Cinna added._

_"Shut up you," Marcus trod on Cinna's foot. Cinna swore and sat down on one of the suitcases to rub his foot._

_"You didn't have to do it so hard," he whimpered._

_"Wait, I know just the thing," Zidane grinned. "The statue, you know, the priceless **artefact**," he winked at Marcus._

_"The what? The . . . **ohhh the artefact**. No, not that, it's too precious to me . . . Oh, very well," Blank capitulated quickly. "It's on your head when **someone** asks where it's got to though. How do we get it here?"  
"Well, I'm not doing it," Zidane protested._

_"Can't do it you mean," Blank observed, examining his fingernails as he leaned on the counter._

_"What? I could so, I just don't wanna."_

_"Yeah right," Marcus snorted, "who blew our cover this evening?"_

_Cinna, rocking back and forth on the floor and clutching his foot, wailed mournfully, "I didn't **mean** to."_

_"Not you, stupid," Blank smacked the back of Cinna's head with the palm of his hand. "Zidane! He tripped over the ottoman when we were just about to make a clean getaway."_

_"He'll have to go in disguise of course," Marcus rummaged around in one of the suitcases and came up with an aquamarine frock covered in lacy frills, a pair of gloves with little lemon yellow bows at the wrists and a large white sunhat, dripping blue and yellow roses. Zidane started running, but he didn't get very far because Marcus was gripping his tail._

_"We're ummm actors, you see," Blank said, smiling charmingly at Thad while Cinna and Marcus wrestled Zidane to the floor. "We had a bad performance this evening and we don't want the audience to catch up with us. Lindblum audiences are the worst, you know. They expect high quality theatre and when they don't get it things can get real ugly real quick." Marcus and Cinna stopped wrestling Zidane into the costume for a moment and applauded inexplicably. Blank bowed and winked._

_"My wife's always going on about this Lowell fellow," Thad said sympathetically. "She **likes** him, and still her and that fan club nearly rip him to shreds trying to get his autograph."_

_"Yes, show business, it's a risky way to make a living," Blank observed._

_Zidane scowled from beneath the enormous white hat, blowing a yellow rose out of his eye._

_"There, aren't you lovely?" Marcus cooed._

_"Now, Zidane here will go fetch an ancient statue from our digs near the theatre with which to pay you, my good sir. I'm afraid you'll be getting the better of the bargain, as it's practically priceless."_

_"But, wait, I . . ."_

_"Oh, it's the least we can do for you," Blank beamed at Thad winningly._

* * *

_A quarter of an hour later Zidane returned, bearing a hideous statue of a fat bird wearing a crown._

_"This thing is worth 100 gil?" the innkeeper asked dubiously._

_"Oh it's probably worth a lot more," Marcus grimaced, "but you've seen how desperate we are to evade our fans."_

_"Yes, it's worth gobs more than 100 gil. You see, it's a symbol of good fortune," Zidane said helpfully, "according to an old myth from an ancient civilization. What was the civilization called again?" he thumped the statue down on the counter._

_"Olga," Cinna suggested, "scratching his armpit._

_"Oh yeah, it's an excellent example of a First Dynasty Olgan . . . ummm . . . Bobo Bird statue," Zidane said cheerfully, shoving the big ugly hat in the suitcase savagely._

_Thad nodded, "Uhh thank you?" he said._

_"Good night," they chorused at him merrily, climbing the stairs in a row, Cinna bringing up the rear, dragging the suitcases behind him so that they clumped on every step._

* * *

"Oh, I noticed that statue," Freya said, poking her spoon around in the bright green pudding.

"So, the statue was a fake," Amarant said.

"How did you know?" Thad asked, goggling at him.

"Call it a hunch," Amarant replied, straight-faced.

"Well, my cousin has a boyfriend who knows a Level S Treasure Hunter . . ." Thad continued.

* * *

_The Treasure Hunter scratched his chin with one hand and wiped the dust from the statue with the index finger of another hand while yet another hand lay on his hip and still another hand polished a jeweller's loupe on the hem of his vest._

_"It's a fake," he said._

_"What? But the gentlemen assured me that it was First Dynasty Olgan of the finest quality."_

_"Olgan?" The Treasure Hunter grimaced. "There's no such thing. In fact, isn't Olga the name of that rather notorious woman who hangs out on Roulette Boulevard and charges ten gil to look up her skirt and twenty to . . ."_

_"What?" Thad said, affronted. "How would I know?"_

_"Yeah, I'm sorry, guv. You're not that sort of fellow, I guess." The Treasure Hunter returned the jeweller's loupe to his eye and squinted at the sculpture through it._

_"It's a pretty inexpert job, really, and the paint is too fresh for it to be more than two or three years old."_

_"I get it," Thad said through gritted teeth, "I've been duped."_

_"Yeah, whoever unloaded this statue on you and handed you the line about the good fortune and all that was a real comedian. They really had you on, eh? Oh, sorry." The Treasure Hunter stifled a laugh, gauging the rising fury in Thad's expression anxiously and patting the pocket that contained his appraisal fee of 49 gil._

_"So, what should I do?" Thad asked._

_"Well, you could always claim it's been handed down through your family for generations," the Treasure Hunter suggested, crossing all four of his arms, "that usually shuts people up, you know, sentimental value and all that."_

* * *

"I've kept it in the lobby ever since," Thad hiccupped and swept his arms out so extravagantly that he knocked a mug of root beer into his lap.

"Maybe we should get you home," Freya suggested to Thad's inert form. His head lay in a pool of uneaten Slow Pudding that had slithered off of a discarded spoon onto the table top.

Amarant shot Freya a look and they each took one of Thad's arms and dragged him out of his seat.

* * *

"But there's still one thing I'm curious about," Freya said, hauling Thad behind the counter while his son watched, wide-eyed.

"What's that?" Amarant asked.

"Where did they get this genuine Olgan statue?" Freya jerked her thumb at the hideous pop-eyed bird.

"I know who we can ask," Amarant replied with a grin.

* * *

Zidane cursed inventively when he was pulled out of bed by his tail.

"Shut up," Amarant suggested, dropping Zidane on the floor on his head. "You wanna wake up the kid and the rust bucket and the _thing_? he asked, pointing his chin at Quina, Steiner and Vivi.

Zidane and Amarant joined Freya in the hall.

"Statue? Statue? Oh, that statue," he said. "I remember now. That was a good one, ha ha. Got it from Ruby."

"Ruby?" Freya asked. "I thought she was an actress."

"Was. Is a theatre manager now." Zidane rubbed his eyes and glared at them meaningfully. "She dated some artist named Michael once. Thought the sun shone out of his back end. Made that hideous statue in an attempt to impress him. He broke up with her the next day and she gave it to Blank for Christmas. I can't believe that stupid innkeeper would actually think it was some priceless artefact. Is _that_ what you woke me up for. I was having a _really_ nice dream about Dagger."

"Disgusting," Freya observed. Amarant nodded, while privately weighing Dagger's charms in his mind's eye. Curiosity satisfied, all of them went to bed.

But Zidane couldn't resist leaving a parting shot in the suggestion box the next morning before they all left. He didn't actually mean it to be insulting, but he was never known for tact. He was actually feeling rather magnanimous because he had got to continue that dream when he went to bed.

Once Thaddeus read the comment, Zidane was banned from the Lindblum Inn for eternity and even longer than that if it was at all possible.

Luckily for Zidane he later married into the royal family and so he never had to pay to stay at an inn again and also it is very likely his _really_ nice dream came true, so maybe the Bobo Bird did bring good fortune to someone after all.


End file.
